


R&R

by rainfall



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Domination/submission, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainfall/pseuds/rainfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone needs some way to unwind; this is Flynn's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R&R

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was "Yuri/Flynn: obedience, dominance/submission - _a model Knight_ ", for [areyougame](http://areyougame.dreamwidth.org/). It takes place post-game, but there are no real spoilers.
> 
> (Minor editing here for some weird, random cissexism that totally didn't need to be there lol. :\ )

_Commandant Flynn._ He liked saying it. The words had a nice ring to them, and Flynn's reaction was fun every time. Even in public, he'd flush ever so slightly. In private, he sometimes stammered and always lowered his eyes.

Any other guy would've gotten off on it, Yuri felt pretty sure. Especially with the way he sometimes said _Commandant._ But not Flynn. Oh, no. Of _course_ not. Flynn had never had the decency to enjoy being his superior, not even innocently. And as for what he _got off on_ \-- well. In recent months, Yuri had learned _that_ was something else entirely.

Stress relief; maybe that's what it was. At least, that was when Flynn seemed to want it -- need it -- most. He'd always taken his responsibilities very seriously, and there were a lot more of them these days. Turned out rebuilding a whole world was a lot of work; who'd have guessed? So Yuri didn't begrudge him whatever it took to help him relax after an especially long day. Week. _Month._ Hell, he was happy to help. He liked to think of it as his own, personal contribution to the new world order -- with the added bonus of being the kind of "contribution" that Flynn couldn't even _threaten_ to tell anyone about.

Didn't hurt that it was usually really, _really_ hot.

By now, he'd gotten to where he could _tell,_ just by looking at his best friend, when the stress -- or whatever -- had reached that boiling point. It wasn't any one thing, wasn't as simple as the set of his shoulders or the look in his eyes, but Yuri knew it when he saw it. And watching Flynn unveil Rita's latest tweak to whatever she was calling her next-gen blastia, well. He'd definitely seen it. So he waited until it was good and dark out, then crept off to the Royal Quarter and scaled the palace wall.

Flynn had his back to the window and god, just look at him; he was _this_ close to pacing his quarters like a caged tiger. Yuri knew he'd never wanted this. He took it on willingly, did what people needed, carried his half of their burden -- but he'd never wanted a life this complicated and he'd never wanted this much power.

Yuri stayed there watching him for just a few more seconds, and then opened the window to take it away from him -- just for a while. It was _their_ burden, after all, and this was almost literally the least he could do.

The sound of the window opening obviously startled Flynn, but he didn't go for his sword; he never did, even though it could have been _any_ criminal breaking in. "Yuri!" the blond said, and when he turned around his smile was so bright it was almost convincing.

Almost. Yuri smiled back, mostly teeth, and said: " _Strip._ "

A good commanding tone took practice. His had been pretty pathetic that first time, but he was an _expert_ now and Flynn shivered responsively, a different sort of flush coming into his face. There was no hesitation in him as he obeyed.

Belt first, of course. Couldn't get off anything _interesting_ with that in the way. Then the heavy, shining pauldrons and his gauntlets. Gloves. The tunic, so much more ornate now. All of the trappings of his position, discarded. For once, Flynn left his clothes where he fell.

His black turtleneck was the next casualty, and Yuri leaned back against the windowsill to admire the bare chest underneath. Flynn had always been just that little bit broader, just that little bit stronger, and now that they were fully-grown, he was _gorgeous_ shirtless, all those muscles perfectly chiseled as a goddamned marble statute. Only this statue would be warm to the touch.

Greaves. Boots. Yuri waited until he was almost done, just the skintight black pants that matched his turtleneck left. Then he said, "Stop," firm and sharp.

Again, one word was all it took: his best friend froze in place and lowered his eyes. His lips were parted and visibly wet as he breathed slowly through his open mouth. Flynn had left his hands on the front of his pants, as if ready to push them down out of the way, but _also_ covering himself up ever so slightly. Hiding what the thin, tight fabric of his pants wouldn't.

As if he didn't know Flynn well enough by now to guess. Grinning, Yuri pushed himself away from the window and crossed the space between them with deliberate steps. Each one made Flynn shiver. By the time they were close enough to touch, the blond had screwed his eyes shut. His breathing was faster now and very audible.

God. The best part was how much Yuri knew he _wanted_ this. He tried to keep his voice light, but it wasn't easy. "Hiding from me?"

"Sir, no sir," Flynn said at once, his voice thick. "I didn't mean to."

Liar, liar. Pants on fire. "Hands at your sides, then," Yuri suggested. "I want to see it."

Flynn bit his lips until they went white but slowly moved his hands out of the way, revealing his eager dick. Hard already. Probably had been, ever since he'd first said _strip_. Yuri couldn't help taking a moment to admire this part, too. Because _damn_.

Someday, Flynn was going to make a nice young girl very happy. But for now? It was _all_ his.

Salivating compliments weren't really in-character, though, so he went for a mild, "Think I could even touch you right now without making you come?" and listened to the tight, breathless noise Flynn made in response. _Nngh,_ he was so sexy like this. But Yuri only raised his eyebrows. "Pretty disappointing, really. A knight should have better self-control, don't you think?"

It was so easy to reach out and cup him right through his too-tight pants, but Yuri kept his touch light, barely any pressure at all, because he knew it wouldn't take much. The other man groaned but somehow managed to keep himself still. "You -- said I should always be -- ready for you, sir," he choked out.

Yuri paused, and his lips curled up. Oh _really_. That was new. He withdrew his hand almost completely, leaving just one fingertip behind to trace the hot shape of Flynn's trapped dick. "I said _ready,_ " he pointed out. The words or the touch or both got him another hungry sound. "This is way past ready. You _know_ you're not allowed to come without permission."

He flicked his eyes up lazily to watch Flynn's throat work, adam's apple bobbing with his tension, and knew he'd had liked the reminder. His best friend had no other kinks -- at least, nothing Yuri had uncovered just _yet_ \-- but this little game did amazing things to him. They'd hardly even started, and he was probably already wet at the tip, leaking precum.

Which was a... really, really nice mental image. Yuri wet his lips and tried _commanding_ again: "Pants off. Underwear, too. And get down on your knees."

For the first time, Flynn looked up at him -- a quick darting glance so that Yuri could only just register that the familiar sky blue of his eyes was now dark with arousal -- but then he was staring at the floor again and gritting his teeth against the sensation as he shoved those tight, _tight_ pants and whatever underwear he had on underneath them down over his rock-hard cock. There was an eagerness to his movements now, especially as he knelt down-- and Yuri realized he'd forgotten one _other_ kink, if you could call it that: Flynn really seemed to love giving head.

Breathing. Breathing was important. Healthy. Kept a guy from getting dizzy. Yuri slid his hands behind his back, undoing his own belt, and dropped it to the floor. Then he opened the front of his pants, taking his time. Pretending he wasn't intensely aware of the way Flynn hovered, inches away, totally naked and ready but waiting for him -- waiting for his _permission_. It wasn't easy, wasn't easy at _all_ , but this was part of the game, too. Part of the role he was playing.

Yuri wrapped his fingers around his cock to hold himself still and took one last steadying breath. Then he said, "Get me hard, Flynn. You know what I like," and tried to brace himself.

 _Tried_ being the important word there, because Flynn really did know what he liked and the man was on him as soon as he'd finished the last word, all soft wet lips and eager tongue swirling around his sensitive tip so that Yuri had to bite his lips to keep himself from moaning. God, Flynn was already starting to move -- taking more of it into his mouth -- _bobbing his head_ \-- fuck maybe this hadn't been such a good idea...

But it wasn't until he felt Flynn's palm, warm and sure, cupping his balls that Yuri knew he had to stop this, right here, right now. He'd really meant to let Flynn go at it for at least a minute or two, but that was just -- not going to happen. _Damn_. Blindly, Yuri found the back of Flynn's head and dug his fingers into soft blond hair; his best friend went instantly, obediently still and after a few seconds, he could almost think straight again. "Okay," he forced out. "Okay. That's -- enough. I'm hard." Yuri grinned breathlessly. "Jeez, are you that hot for cock?"

What he could see of Flynn's face went slightly pinker, but before Yuri could even _think_ about regretting his thoughtless words the other man was drawing back, lips and nnngh the slightest graze of what felt like _teeth_ dragging over the tight skin of his dick until it slipped free with a wet _pop_. And then, just in case he had any air left in his lungs, Flynn stayed close so that every word brushed against his tip.

"Sir, no sir." Flynn looked up at him, direct and _heated_ this time. "Just yours, sir."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yuri had to swallow before he could speak. For some totally inexplicable reason, his mouth was really dry all of a sudden. What he finally managed was husky and thin. "...Glad to hear it."

This really, really wasn't his usual thing. As long as sex felt good, he'd never cared too much about the _how_ or _where_ or even the _who_. But Flynn. Flynn made this _so_ damn sexy.

So he tightened his grip in Flynn's hair and tugged his head back before he continued, as casually _controlled_ as he could, "But don't forget. This is about what _I_ want. And what I want right now," he rubbed a thumb over Flynn's lips, pressed past them and tried not to shiver, "is to see a little _restraint_ from you."

He knew he'd done the right thing because Flynn's breathing hitched very audibly.

"Yeah," Yuri murmured, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. "Foot of your bed, on the floor. Keep your legs spread nice and wide. And get ready to help me out of my boots. I'll be needing the extra set of hands." The best part about this arrangement was that he'd get to sit down for it. Because his legs were already feeling a bit shaky.

A small, puzzled frown settled on Flynn's face, but the blond did as he was told, moving slowly and carefully. Yuri watched him for a moment, especially enjoying the way his urgent erection kept brushing the insides of his thighs and making him stiffen. Then he followed, somewhat careful himself. He settled down on the edge of Flynn's bed in front of him, sinking into it a little the way he always did because the damn mattress was _way_ too soft, and cocked an expectant grin at his best friend.

An expectant grin that Flynn missed, because his eyes were elsewhere. Yuri let him stare for a second longer, because hell that was flattering, before prompting him: "Well?" He raised his eyebrows. "Don't have to tell you twice, do I?"

Flynn glanced up at him, red again, but shook his head. "Sir, no sir. I -- apologize for the delay," he murmured dutifully and went right to work on the boots.

Yuri couldn't help smirking. "If you were enjoying the view," he said airily, "don't worry. It's gonna get -- a lot more interesting."

Another glance, and another puzzled frown. Flynn opened his mouth, but then seemed to lose track of whatever it was he'd been about to say.

It was a strange feeling, having enough gald to do more than just get by. Yuri wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it, really. But one of the definite perks was being able to carry spare gels with him, all the time. He tore the lemon gel open with his teeth, warming it with his fingers, and then -- began to get himself slick.

" _Yuri_..." Flynn sounded completely strangled.

Yuri's lips curved up. "Hey," he said. "Warned you, didn't I? I _said_ \-- I needed the extra hands... What did you _think_... I meant...?"

It was nothing Yuri hadn't done before, technically speaking. Over the years, he'd jerked off plenty of times in plenty of different ways. Fast, slow. Urgent, leisurely. But it was different with Flynn watching, hands white-knuckled on the heel of his boot and those muscular shoulders _trembling_. Yuri found himself very deliberately playing his fingers up to to his slit and smearing the pad of his thumb over it. The burst of sensation was _intense_ , almost too good to _feel_ good, but it made Flynn twist, an abortive motion like he'd almost dived right back in to help, and that was _so fucking hot_.

"Ah- _ah_ ," Yuri chided him breathlessly, getting his free arm behind him and easing his weight back onto it. "Stay where you are. You've got a job to do." Then he added, light as could be, "Remember... _Commandant_?"

It was a whim, really. He knew it would startle Flynn, maybe pull him out of the moment, even if just a little. After all, they usually pretended he didn't _have_ a title while they were playing this game. Nothing they'd ever talked about, just a silent understanding that Flynn was obviously some no-name knight without any power.

But it was such a _great_ title. So much better than "cadet" or "soldier". He liked saying it. And Flynn's reaction had always been fun before. Yuri figured it was just a matter of saying it the right way.

Besides. The fact of the matter was, _anyone_ could've done this to him if he'd been a no-name knight without any power. Wasn't it way more impressive -- wasn't it hotter, better, and more _real_ \-- to be completely dominated as Commandant Flynn?

Flynn looked up at him, darkly flushed, pupils completely blown, and for a second Yuri wasn't sure -- had he done the wrong thing? should he take it back? -- but then the blond made a sound, a husky groan he'd never heard before, and suddenly seemed _very_ interested in getting him out of his boots. "Yes..." He took several shallow, wet breaths. "Yes, sir..."

 _Not_ the wrong thing, then.

Yuri tipped his head back, focusing on getting himself under control while Flynn worked. Fleetingly, he thought about maybe getting himself a pair of boots that actually laced up; he would've had more time, and Flynn might have liked having something he pull loose with that talented mouth. But they had to work with what they had tonight, and his best friend was done already, settling back and waiting for him -- waiting for his permission -- again.

 _God_ , but he looked good like that. His dick was dark red, so hard, probably aching.

"On the bed," Yuri told him, when he could speak again. "Hands and knees. And spread your legs _wide_. I want to see... everything."

And then Flynn did something he'd never, ever done before: he hesitated.

Maybe just to catch his breath. Maybe because all the blood in his body was currently between his legs and he was worried that standing up too fast would have made him dizzy. But Yuri didn't think so, somehow.

"What's the hold-up, Flynn?" he asked, curious but not really as patient right now as he'd have liked to be. "You're not actually thinking about... disobeying an order, are you? You know what'll happen to you if you do."

He hadn't _meant_ anything by it, not exactly. The words had just slipped out without him thinking too much about them. And he definitely hadn't expected Flynn's reaction, which was to flush bright red and look away and stammer.

"I..." Licking his lips. "Of -- of course not, sir. I'd... I'd never..."

Flynn let that trail off, but then he scrambled up onto the bed and moved over to the head of it, getting himself into position _exactly_ as Yuri had instructed him -- even spreading his legs as wide as he could and canting his hips so that he was completely exposed.

Perfect behavior, beyond any further reproach. So Yuri couldn't really pursue it. But he paused, and made a mental note for the next time. His best friend definitely didn't mind being called _Commandant_ , and... might actually be interested in adding some kind of punishment to this game.

 _Huh_.

But that was next time. For now, he had other things to worry about -- like getting another gel out and stripping drown. Shirt and jacket over his head, pants out of the way. Yuri didn't pay any attention to where they went, though dimly he thought one of his shirts might have actually gone out the window. It didn't matter: he'd never cared less about his clothes.

When he was on the bed again, Flynn turned around to look at him, fuzzy and flushed. "Was that your shirt?" he asked, thick, and in spite of everything he sounded like he was trying to find the presence of mind to object.

"Sure was," Yuri agreed, popping the gel in his mouth, and then he ducked his head to press his tongue against a certain tight ring of muscle and listened with some satisfaction to the sound of Flynn completely forgetting that he'd ever wanted to speak.

" _Ah--_ Yuri, fuck..."

There was something distinctly satisfying about making Flynn curse. He almost never cursed these days, wasn't _proper_ for a knight to talk like he'd grown up on the streets of the Lower Quarter, and in spite of himself Yuri liked hearing it. Especially like this, when he knew the words were slipping out because Flynn felt too _good_ to censor himself.

In, out. He moved his tongue in a tiny mimicry of what he was about to start doing with his cock, and Flynn moaned, squirming to push back against him. The gel had mostly melted in his mouth and it spread easily, adding a hint of candied lemon to the dusky taste. In, out, in again; he swirled his tongue around the soft walls, listening as Flynn whimpered something that sounded like his name.

He didn't really need that much prep. He was probably good to go already. But Yuri kept at it until his tongue was tired, and even then he drew back lingeringly, sucking and scraping his teeth very lightly over the shivering hole.

"...Yuri..." Flynn sounded numb, exhausted, but also hungry. "Don't-- Just do it, god..."

Nnngh, the words sent a hot jolt through him, right to his own aching cock. Yuri grinned, faint, and curled in around Flynn, wrapping an arm around the other man's waist so that he could whisper right into his ear. "Oh, Commandant. That wasn't an _order_... was it?"

Flynn moaned through his teeth. "I-- I meant... it as a suggestion... Just -- a suggestion... Please," he added, turning to look at Yuri over his shoulder. His eyes were electric blue, smoldering and so very deliberately sexy, but somehow he managed to keep up that breathy, apologetic tone. "Please, Yuri, _fuck me_."

It wasn't exactly the sort of thing you said _no_ to. "Well," Yuri said after a beat, in a voice that sounded absolutely nothing like his own, "since you -- asked so nicely."

He found his own dick with bloodless fingers and brought himself into position blindly. No more teasing, no more making Flynn wait for it, because he couldn't make _himself_ wait another second and _fuck_ so soft so hot so _tight_ inside he hadn't been ready for it and now he was going to lose his goddamned mind--

His first thrust was rough, deep, and nothing like gentle, but Flynn made an eager noise and rocked back into it, gasping for breath, so Yuri just dug his fingers into the other man's hips, snapping back to shove in again just as hard. God, it was _so_ good, so good he couldn't _think_.

Distantly he was aware of the bed creaking, the sharp sound of Flynn's headboard slamming into the wall again and again, but they might as well have been sounds in a different room, on a different _continent_. They meant nothing to him. Less than nothing.

In, in, in, out, in, out, in, in, in. The same rhythm he'd used with his tongue, only now those smooth walls of muscle were clamped tight around his cock. It was an easy glide, the soothing gels helping and Flynn's needy responsiveness helping even more. Fuck, _fuck_. He was already so close.

But even through the haze and the hunger and the blinding pleasure, Yuri still recognized -- a certain strain in his best friend's voice.

"Yuri -- Yuri -- oh, _ah_..."

He'd heard that pitch before. He knew what it meant. And for a moment, Yuri was seriously torn. He wanted so _badly_ to just keep going, to angle his next stroke so that it _rammed_ into Flynn's sweet spot and made him cry out, clench down, come all over his headboard. He could almost hear the desperate moan, almost _feel_ the delirious pressure on his dick as Flynn's body came all around him. And it would have been so amazing, so hot, so good...

 _So_ not a part of the role he was playing.

And not really what Flynn wanted -- needed -- tonight.

Yuri gritted his teeth and pulled out, groaning from the effort and the sensation. When Flynn turned to look at him, a protest on those swollen lips, he shot the other man a grin and then curled his fingers around his own cock, stroking himself. Once was all it took, and then the world went briefly _white_ like a starburst as he came, jets of off-white fluid covering Flynn's ass and thighs and the sheets below them.

It left Yuri feeling a little weak, but the thoroughly overheated expression on Flynn's face was very energizing.

"Yuri," he said thickly, his whole body heaving with his ragged breaths. "You-- What..."

Yuri put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him over, onto his back. "I told you," he said, his own voice rough. "I said I wanted to see some _restraint_ tonight." He guided the blond's legs apart and looked down at his dick. God, it was _so_ hard, he almost thought he could _see_ Flynn's pulse throbbing through it. The dark head was completely soaked with his precum.

"Well," Yuri continued without taking his eyes off it, "I've seen restraint. Now -- I just want to see you come."

That made Flynn's eyes snap _wide_ open and fix feverishly on his face. There was a fine sheen of sweat all over the other man's skin, darkening his hair at the roots from gold to bronze. He was utterly, utterly unpresentable. And utterly, utterly gorgeous. Anyone else would have asked him what he meant; Flynn knew him, knew he meant _just like this, completely untouched_ , so all he did was stare up at Yuri for a moment longer, like he wanted to make absolutely sure he'd heard what he thought he had. "Yuri..." He bit his lips. "Yuri, I don't -- know that I _can_ \--"

But Yuri was absolutely confident in his best friend's ability to do _anything_. "Oh, I know you can." He ducked his head, brushing his lips over Flynn's taut belly and making him _jerk_. "It's an order, Commandant." He forced his voice lower, firmer, more commanding. " _Come for me._ "

He dragged a fingertip up the underside of Flynn's cock, and that was all it took. With a desperate moan that was _exactly_ as sexy as he'd imagined, Flynn rocked his hips up in a dry thrust -- once, twice, three times before he came, thick and hot and all over them both. There was a lot of it; there always was. Flynn was impressive in every goddamned way.

For a while, the only sound in the room was their breathing. Flynn sank down onto the mattress like melting wax, if wax had ever melted from pure satisfaction. His lips were turned up at the corners and he seemed to have completely gotten over any embarrassment. Yuri gazed down at him for a moment, feeling pretty thoroughly satisfied himself and maybe kind of smug. No more tension here. No more stress. Not for a while, at least. For his part, Yuri had gotten over most of his exhaustion, but he shifted over to lie down beside Flynn anyway.

"That," he said, muffled slightly by one of Flynn's pillows, "was amazing."

"It is both my honor and my privilege to serve," Flynn returned, somehow managing to sound stiff and formal in spite of everything, but there was a smile in his voice, too.

Yuri paused, then laughed. "Oh, really," he said. Careful, now. Say it _casually_. "Because some of what you were doing tonight seemed almost _rebellious_."

Suddenly, Flynn seemed to have a lot more trouble controlling his tone. "I was just -- distracted," he mumbled.

Definitely _interest_. _Well_. There were all sorts of ways to punish someone. Maybe Rita would let him borrow her whip sometime. Yuri grinned and rolled over onto his back. "Flattering," he said. "Well, don't worry, Flynn. I'll be sure not to _bore_ you next time."

Flynn made a vague, noncommittal sort of noise. It had probably been meant as an objection, but he was tired. So Yuri decided to leave it at that for now and stretched out, shutting his eyes.

Then rolled over again. "I don't understand how you can sleep on a bed this soft," he informed Flynn after another five minutes or so of trying and failing to get comfortable.

At first, there was no response, and he thought at first that Flynn -- the bastard -- had already fallen asleep. But no; his best friend had one more surprise for him tonight.

"Is that... really all you don't understand about me, Yuri?"

Yuri cracked open an eye to find a very small sleepy frown on the other man's face. He turned the words over his head for a moment, then snorted when he got it. "Nope," he said, shutting his eye again. "There are lots of other weird things about you. Like, why the hell are you still living in the same damn room they assigned you when you made lieutenant?"

It wasn't his best jibe, but it seemed to serve its purpose. Flynn let out a husky laugh and then shifted over to sling an arm around his waist, apparently not bothered by how sticky they both were. "Why do I put up with you."

"No idea," Yuri said. Then he smirked. "Maybe it's all the mind-blowing sex."

Which earned him a punch in the arm, but it had been totally worth it. It always was, with Flynn.


End file.
